


New Blood

by sushigirlali



Category: The 100, The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Grounder AU, Skaikru AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-15 02:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14150286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sushigirlali/pseuds/sushigirlali
Summary: Turning her cheek against the ground, she could see Bellamy fighting harder than ever against his friends. His curly hair was tousled against his forehead, making her ache to run her fingers through it again. Did he still love her? The tragic look on his face convinced her he did. It was comforting to know that, as she waited to die.





	New Blood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AshesAndDrums](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshesAndDrums/gifts).



**Disclaimer:** I do not own The 100 or anything that relates to The 100.

 **Continuity:** Grounder AU where Skaikru is a clan that has been around since the world ended following the timeline of the show and were never in space. All characters set to Season 5 ages.

* * *

**A/N** : This fic is a birthday gift to one of my best friends, but thought I’d share it with you fine people as well. I was actually stuck on a different story before I had a brainwave about this one, and I’m so glad I switched to writing this. Sometimes you just gotta move on when a story isn’t working. You can find me on Fanfiction.net and Tumblr as sushigirlali as well. Enjoy!

 **Special Thanks:** Katoro / FrisianWanderer / AshesAndDrums

* * *

**New Blood  
** **By: sushigirlali**

* * *

Clarke knotted the laces of her black combat boots before standing to buckle her dark brown leather armor into place, trying to concentrate on anything but the nervous energy being broadcasted by the crowd outside. The ceremony she was about to participate in was an ancient tradition dating back to the founding of their clan. Once every thirteen years, a new Skaikru leader was elected, taking the place of the previous commander.

Well, “elected” was probably a misnomer. Clarke thought wryly.

After three weeks of intense competition to narrow down the candidates, the new commander was selected though ritual combat between the two strongest warriors in the clan. While killing your opponent was not mandatory, a challenger had never yielded in the history of the tournament. Still, it was considered a great honor to be chosen as a contender in the final conclave, despite the potential danger involved.

Besides raw athletic strength, hunting and tracking skills, medical knowledge, artistic ability, and understanding of Skaikru history were measured. Clarke had passed each stage with flying colors, along with a handful of other hopefuls. The last trial, a simple verbal exam on the ancestry of previous commanders, had reduced the pool of contenders to two people: Clarke and Octavia Blake.

Clarke smiled sadly as she thought of her friend. While Clarke had grown up in a wealthy, influential family, Octavia hadn’t been so lucky. Octavia’s mother, Aurora Blake, was still considered an outsider for marrying into the clan, as opposed to being born into it, despite the fact that the Blake’s had lived in Arkadia for more than thirty years.

Aurora tragically lost her husband only days before giving birth to her eldest child, Bellamy. Because Bellamy’s father was not present at his birthing ceremony, the child was not granted his father’s surname, and all the benefits the title would have afforded. Clarke’s mother, Abby Griffin, had objected to this unjust decision, but the sixth commander chose to sustain the ancient law, leaving Aurora with few options.

With no other family to turn to, Aurora opted to stay in Arkadia in the hope that one day her son would rise in station and regain the honor of his father’s name. In the meantime, her skills as a seamstress kept the family afloat, and gave them a comfortable life for many years.

Abby’s selfless defense of Aurora led to a lifelong friendship between the two women. Although not everyone approved of their relationship, no one dared to question the daughter of a commander. Abby belonged to one of the oldest and most revered Skaikru bloodlines, and was widely respected in Arkadia as a healer. So, due to Abby’s influence, some were more willing to give the Blake’s a chance.

Unfortunately, a scandalous affair with a tower guard soon dented the progress Aurora had made in the community. It was illegal for soldiers charged with protecting the throne, and therefore the commander, to marry or have children, lest their loyalty become fractured. Aurora’s connection to Abby kept her out of jail, but since the illicit relationship resulted in the birth of Octavia, Aurora’s lover fled the commander’s justice and hadn’t been seen since.

Lineage was extremely important in Skaikru society, with prestige measured in terms of how many commander cycles the family name had been sustained for. Since the clan was founded, there had been eight such cycles, with the ninth to begin at the conclusion of the conclave today.

Clarke had been groomed from birth to lead Skaikru, and many believed that she would prevail today. She knew better than to underestimate Octavia, however. Friends since childhood, Octavia was incredibly bright and driven, often battling Clarke to a standstill when they trained together.

When it became apparent that Octavia was going to be a candidate for the conclave a few months ago, Clarke had distanced herself from the Blake family. She knew it hurt Octavia and Bellamy to do so, but Clarke couldn’t bear the thought of seeing Octavia every day, knowing that one of them had to defeat, and possibly kill, the other.

Clarke sighed as she thought of Bellamy Blake. She had been in love with him for a long time, but the prospect of being commander had always been in the way of developing a permanent relationship with him. Per Skaikru law, the commander could not marry while serving the clan. So, despite the fact that Bellamy returned Clarke’s feelings, she refused to make him wait thirteen years to be with her.

She had thought about bowing out of the final battle, of allowing Octavia to become the next leader uncontested, of simply being with Bellamy. But her pride wouldn’t allow it. Losing she could stand, but not evening trying was out of the question. It was her birthright, and she had made too many sacrifices to turn back now.

Sudden footsteps in the hall jolted Clarke from her revelries.

Her mother opened the door. “Clarke, it’s time.”

Taking a deep breath, Clarke picked up her weapons. With her father’s sword against her back, and her lucky dagger in the sheath at her hip, Clarke was as ready as she’d ever be. It was time to preform her duty.

* * *

The arena was quiet as she walked out, her opponent already in the ring. Octavia wasn’t looking at her, though. Clarke followed her gaze, hating the tense set of Bellamy’s broad shoulders, the strain on Aurora’s lovely face. The Blake’s had been through a lot, and now she was standing in the way of their future prosperity.

Octavia was wearing her favorite set of thin black leather armor under slate arm guards and knee-high boots. Functional, but risky. The outfit was tailored to allow maximum movement, but didn’t offer much in the way of protection. Clarke’s own armor was made from a thicker, heavier hide, but what she lost in speed, she gained in defense.

“Clarke, there’s still time to back out. You don’t have to fight Octavia.” Abby said seriously, misreading her silence.

“No.” Clarke said, trying to keep her voice neutral. “I have to do this.”

“She could kill you.” Abby nearly choked on the words.

“I could kill her.” Clarke countered.

“Clarke…” Abby started doubtfully.

“I’ll do what I have to.” Clarke replied, trying to reassure her mother as much as herself.

Abby pulled Clarke into her arms. “May we meet again.” She whispered.

Clarke hugged her mother back tightly, only pulling away when a horn sounded from atop the stadium, signaling that the final conclave would begin in a few minutes. Squaring her shoulders, Clarke advanced to the center of the arena, where Octavia stood waiting.

“Clarke.” Octavia said, anger and determination radiating off of her.

“Octavia.” Clarke acknowledged.

The Captain of the Guard came forward, stalling any further conversation.

“This is a historic day.” Indra announced, bowing to both contenders. “Our ninth commander will soon be chosen from two of the youngest warriors to ever reach the final conclave. I have seen the heart and dedication of Clarke and Octavia up close, and know that either would make a worthy leader.”

The crowd cheered at Indra’s pronouncement.

“For this final challenge, there is only one rule: the winner will be the person who does not yield. Warriors, ready your weapons.” Indra instructed.

Clarke and Octavia did as they were asked, unsheathing their swords.

“Once the horn sounds again, when the sun is highest in the sky, you may begin.” Indra said before retreating to her place beside the commander’s throne.

“Octavia—” Clarke tried, wanting to clear the air before they started.

“There’s nothing left to say, Clarke. You broke my brother’s heart, and now I’m going to break you.” Octavia growled quietly.

“It’s not like that, I—” But the final signal cut her off.

Octavia immediately flew forward, sword outstretched. Clarke barely blocked in time, but managed to prevent Octavia from taking her head off. Retreating a few paces to regain her footing, Clarke shook off the near hit.

“You’re rusty, Clarke.” Octavia taunted. “Haven’t you been practicing?”

Clarke brushed off the insult, trying not to let Octavia’s words affect her.

“Nothing to say?” Octavia said, circling her.

“Nothing you want to hear, apparently.” Clarke shot back.

“Excuses, you mean.” Octavia said in disgust.

Clarke narrowed her eyes, waiting for an opportunity to attack. As Octavia readjusted her stance, she found one, bringing her sword down in a few quick strikes. Stumbling for only a brief moment, Octavia gave as good as she got. They exchanged hits in a blur of movement, eliciting gasps from the crowd as they flew across the arena.

“It was never my intention to hurt you or Bellamy, but I didn’t have a choice.” Clarke ground out as their swords locked together.

“There’s always a choice.” Octavia dismissed. “And you chose the coward’s way out!”

Clarke pushed forward angrily, knocking Octavia off balance. Spinning away, Clarke put some distance between them.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Clarke said through gritted teeth.

“You used my brother’s love for you to clear your path to the final conclave.” Octavia charged.

Clarke was shocked by the accusation. “That’s not true!”

Octavia ignored her, darting forward again. Parrying, Clarke traded blows with her in rapid succession, their swords clanging loudly despite the buzz of the crowd. After years of sparring together, their skills were perfectly matched, making any advantage over the other fleeting.

“Whatever happens today, I want you to know something.” Clarke huffed, trying to catch her breath.

“Yeah, what’s that?” Octavia grunted.

“I love Bellamy, but it was his choice to refuse entry. I would have respected whatever decision he made.” Clarke said sincerely.

Octavia seemed to falter, as if sensing the truth in her words. “Then why did you distance yourself from him?”

“The law states that a commander cannot marry until after their term is up. I didn’t want to hold Bellamy back, Octavia.” Clarke said frankly.

“And me?”

“After Bellamy dropped out, you made it clear that you intended to enter the competition. It was too difficult to see you everyday and know that we would likely have to fight at some point. Not while training for fun, but for real.” Clarke confessed.

“You could have just told us the truth, instead of pushing us out of your life without explanation! You owed us more than that!” Octavia reprimanded her.

Clarke jumped backward as Octavia took an unexpected swing at her, her opponent’s anger making her wild and unpredictable. Feeling the whoosh of Octavia’s sword as it sailed past her face, nicking her, Clarke was forced to acknowledge that Octavia was going for the kill.

“Octavia, this doesn’t have to end in blood.” Clarke panted, swiping the thin line of blood off her cheek.

“No, it’s better this way.” Octavia said icily.

“So you did decide to take part in the conclave to punish me.” Clarke stated, distressed.

“Not to punish you, Clarke. To kill you. Once you’re dead, I’ll be the commander, and Bellamy will be free of you!” Octavia spat.

Furious, Clarke ran at Octavia, taking her by surprise. Before she could raise her defense, Clarke kicked her hard in the stomach, sending her flying backward onto the firm ground. Throwing her sword aside, Clarke drew her dagger and advanced on her enemy.

Clarke knocked Octavia’s weapon out of her hand as she gasped for breath, kneeling across her chest to stop her from recovering. Clarke brought her knife to Octavia’s neck with one hand, using the other in conjunction with her legs to pin Octavia down to the dusty earth.

“Is this what you wanted?” Clarke demanded menacingly. “I tried to avoid this situation! I love you, and your brother, you stupid idiot! Why did you have to force my hand?”

Staring down into Octavia’s frightened face, Clarke’s hand began to shake. She could do this. She had to do this. Octavia would have killed her without a second thought. Raising her dagger to strike, Clarke froze as a familiar voice boomed from the stands.

“No!” Bellamy shouted.

Clarke turned to see Miller and Monty holding Bellamy back, while Aurora wept quietly at his side. Her own mother was hiding her face in her hands a few feet away.

“Clarke, don’t!” Bellamy begged.

Clarke turned away from her family, trying to block them out.

I have to do this! Clarke kept reiterating to herself. I have to…I…

“Clarke! Please!”

But she couldn’t.

Clarke loosened her grip, giving Octavia the chance to overtake her. Octavia flipped their positions, using her knees as leverage to fling Clarke over her shoulder and onto the ground. Quickly immobilizing her adversary, Octavia drew her own dagger and pressed it against Clarke’s throat.

* * *

Everything seemed to slow down as Clarke stared into Octavia’s eyes. There was triumph there, but also indecision. Losing Clarke had devastated Octavia, she understood that now. Whatever she claimed to the contrary, it was that pain that motivated Octavia’s actions, not Bellamy’s feelings.

Octavia felt betrayed by Clarke, and maybe she had been, Clarke finally admitted. She had chosen to hide away from the Blake’s in an effort to protect herself, not them. Her actions had been selfish, not selfless.

Turning her cheek against the ground, she could see Bellamy fighting harder than ever against his friends. His curly hair was tousled against his forehead, making her ache to run her fingers through it again. Did he still love her? The tragic look on his face convinced her he did. It was comforting to know that, as she waited to die.

“Clarke! Octavia, wait!” There were tears in Bellamy’s eyes, his voice harsh from shouting.

 _“I love you.”_ Clarke mouthed to Bellamy.

Clarke closed her eyes as Octavia pulled her knife back.

“No!” Abby and Bellamy screamed.

But the blade never fell.

“Do you yield?” Octavia asked quietly.

Clarke’s eyes snapped open. “What?”

“Do. You. Yield?” She insisted loudly.

Clarke couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Yes or no. Decide now.” Octavia commanded.

“Yes.” Clarke felt like a weight had been lifted off her soul.

“Do to swear loyalty to me, as your commander, and to my house.” Octavia said clearly.

“I swear it.” Clarke promised sincerely.

Octavia drew back, standing over her. “Blood will not have blood this day.” She said decisively.

Glancing from Clarke to Bellamy, Octavia took a steadying breath, and then extended her hand. Clarke allowed Octavia to pull her up.

“Thank you for sparing my life, Commander Octavia.” Clarke said formally so that the crowd could hear her. “I’m sorry for pushing you away, for hurting you.” She said just for Octavia. “It won’t happen again.”

“I know you let me win.” Octavia’s eyes were glassy. “You would have sacrificed yourself for me, for my family. I forgive you, Clarke.”

Octavia pulled Clarke into a brief hug, healing the rift between them.

“Commander Octavia, Clarke.” Indra said proudly as they parted. “A battle well fought. I’m glad both of you made it through.”

“Me too.” Clarke smiled.

“Commander, may I lead you to the throne? We must complete the ceremony.” Indra said respectfully.

“You may.” Octavia allowed. She looked at Clarke like she wanted to say something more.

“Go.” Clarke said. “You earned it, Commander.”

Octavia gripped her hand in thanks, then followed Indra, accepting congratulations from her subjects as she passed.

Clarke watched her go, feeling at peace. Being commander had been something she’d wanted since childhood, but now it all seemed so unimportant. She had almost killed her best friend, all for the want of power and prestige. Octavia would make a much better commander, who only wanted to make life better for her family, and for the clan.

Abby ran up to her daughter, enveloping her in a tight hug.

“Mom! I’m okay!” Clarke chuckled.

“I know!” Abby cried. “You did so well, Clarke. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, mom.” She said. “Are you—”

“Clarke?”

Clarke felt her whole body clench at the sound of her name, suddenly nervous about her reception. Would he want her back, now that the conclave was over?

“I’ll see you later, sweetheart.” Abby said, smiling bemusedly through her tears. “That boy would have jumped into the ring if he hadn’t been restrained, so don’t mess this up!”

Clarke rolled her eyes playfully as her mother walked off. Turning around slowly, she teared up at the loving expression on Bellamy’s face, ashamed for ever doubting his feelings.

“Bellamy, I—” But she didn’t get a chance to finish.

Bellamy dragged her into his arms, kissing her desperately. Clarke responded in kind, loving the rough attention. She sighed against his lips, threading her fingers in his dark mop of hair as Bellamy’s hands trailed over her curves tenderly.

“I could have lost you.” Bellamy groaned, pulling back to frame her face.

“I’m sorry!” Clarke whispered.

“I love you.” Bellamy replied softly. “Never leave me again.”

“Never.” Clarke vowed, holding him close.

“Thank you for saving Octavia.” Bellamy said against her ear.

“I couldn’t take her from you.”

“The thought of losing either of you…” He trailed off, at a loss for words.

“It was my fault. I wanted to be commander so badly, but I knew I couldn’t hold the position and still be with you, so I shut you out. In the end, I was trying to protect myself.” Clarke admitted hoarsely. “I’m so sorry!”

Bellamy stroked her soft blonde hair, comforting her. “It’s okay, I understand. I’ve felt like half a person since you left, but I always knew why you did what you did. I know you, Clarke. We’re a matched pair; I need you to be complete.”

Clarke pulled back to look at him. “I’m not the commander.”

Bellamy’s eyebrows rose. “Yes, I know.”

“Which means I’m free to marry and have children.” Clarke said seriously.

“Clarke, what—” This time, Clarke was the one interrupting.

Sinking to one knee, Clarke held his hands against her heart. “Bellamy Blake, will you marry me?”

Bellamy stared at her blankly for a moment.

“Bellamy, did you hear me? I love you, I want to marry you.” Clarke said less certainly this time.

“Yes, I heard you, Clarke.” His dark eyes alight with feeling, Bellamy used his considerable strength to lift her smaller body off the ground and into his arms. Bellamy spun around with her happily, kissing her face and neck.

“Bellamy!” Clarke protested with a laugh, locking her legs around his waist to keep from falling.

Bellamy only continued his attentions, gripping her bottom to hold her firmly against him.

“Is that a yes?” Clarke demanded, pulling on his hair so that he was forced to look at her.

“I don’t know, shouldn’t we check with the commander first?” Bellamy teased. “She might have something to say about who her beloved big brother marries.”

“You’re damn right I do.” Octavia said from behind them.

Keeping an arm around her waist, Bellamy gently lowered Clarke back to the ground as they faced their new leader.

“If you don’t marry Clarke Griffin, brother, I’m afraid I’ll have to demote you from border guard to palace janitor.” Octavia said with a twinkle in her eye.

Bellamy hugged Clarke to his side, taking her left hand in his. “Well then, princess, I guess my answer is…yes!”

* * *

**A/N:** I’ve been obsessed with writing Reylo fanfics lately, but I got super inspired after seeing the Season 5 trailer and wanted to try my hand at writing for The 100. The fic ended being more about Clarke and Octavia than Bellarke, but I like how it turned out. I struggled with whether to include a line about Clarke being bi since, being bi myself, I know how important representation is. But I also didn’t want to add it just to add it. I’ve shipped Clarke and Bellamy since the first season, so while I don’t mind Clarke being with other people, I prefer her with B. Thanks for reading! Send me reviews! I love getting feedback! You can find me on Fanfiction.net and Tumblr as sushigirlali as well :D

* * *

**A little something extra!**

Ali: So how do you feel about having children?  
Bellamy: Well, I would like to have one, someday, with the right person.  
Ali: Specifically a daughter.  
Bellamy: Well, I—  
Ali: Because you have a daughter now.  
Bellamy: Wait what?  
Ali: Her name is Madi.  
Bellamy: Who?  
Ali: Oh, you’ll find out soon enough.

 

 

 


End file.
